By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс

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By Request Collection April-June 2016 - Оливия Гейтс


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      “Probably since first light. Although I hope she got some sleep first.” Vi sipped her tea. “From the time they were little, all three of them used to make midnight visits to the stone arch to share secrets, make plans, dream dreams. They even used to write their goals down. They buried them in a box in the stones so that they could tap into what Adair always called the ‘power of the stones.’ They used to leave from Piper’s room because they could easily climb down from her balcony.” Vi’s smile held a hint of nostalgia. “They didn’t think I knew about that part.”

      “You kept pretty good track of your girls back then,” Duncan said. And she still did. When he’d called the castle last night to let Vi know they were coming, she’d already been aware of the incident at Piper’s apartment and the resulting media storm. He reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m going to keep her safe. And we’re going to find out who’s targeting her.”

      “I know. I talked to Daryl after I spoke with you,” Vi said. “He thinks that getting her out of D.C. was a good idea.”

      The instant she mentioned Daryl’s name, a pretty blush rose in Vi’s cheeks. Duncan smiled at her. “It’s always good to know that the director of the CIA’s domestic operations unit thinks I’m on the right track.”

      Duncan lifted her hand to examine her engagement ring. “Daryl has good taste.”

      Vi sighed. “It is lovely, isn’t it?”

      “I was talking about you, but the ring is lovely, too. Have you and Daryl set a date yet?”

      “First weekend of September. Adair has already put our names on the wedding schedule. Daryl flew into Albany yesterday on some kind of business, and since I’m attending and presenting at a big wedding fair at one of the malls, I’m going to join him for dinner, and then I’m bringing him back here for the weekend. He wants to be here for that photo shoot tomorrow with Architectural Digest. He’s looking forward to meeting Piper.”

      “Is he worried about the shoot?”

      “No. Daryl checked out the man who’s coming. Russell Arbogast is a senior editor and writer with the magazine. They’ve been running a series on Scottish castles and they want to include a feature article on the replica Angus One built of his ancestral home. With Cam and Adair both gone, Daryl didn’t want me to have to handle it alone.”

      “It’s always good to have the CIA on the premises for backup.”

      Vi smiled at him. “The only person who might not be a happy camper this weekend is Piper. I can’t imagine she’s taking well to the idea of being boxed in and … bodyguarded.”

      Duncan sipped coffee. “I’ve asked her to help me with a case we both have an interest in. The Rose Petal Killer. We’re going to see if there’s a way we can put Patrick Lightman back in jail. The files are being delivered this morning.”

      “How clever of you. It’s the perfect project for her. I can see why you’re good at your job.”

      “I also told her about Cam’s certainty that the rest of Eleanor’s sapphires are somewhere on the estate.”

      “Daryl and I agree with him on that.”

      As he speared more bacon, Duncan asked, “Why do you think she buried one of the earrings separately?”

      Vi sipped her tea. “You’re assuming Eleanor did it?”

      “They were hers. And she wore them in her wedding portrait. The fact that there’s no record of them after her death argues that she’s the one who hid them. Angus died first, so that lets him off the hook unless they hid them together at some point. Cam has my mom researching the Mary Stuart connection, but that photo they reprinted in the Times article argues heavily in favor of the tradition that’s been handed down about their connection to Mary Stuart. They’re worth a fortune now. But even back then, they would have had that added value. If I had something like that, I’d protect it.”

      “From what?” Vi asked.

      He smiled at her. “Good question.”

      With a smile, she reached over and laid a hand over one of his in a gesture that he remembered from that long-ago summer. “You’ll figure it out. That’s what you do best.”

      A chime sounded, followed by muffled knocks on a door.

      “That will be Russell Arbogast.” Vi rose from her chair and carried her teacup to the sink. “He wanted to bring his photographer here for a tour prior to the shoot tomorrow.”

      At the kitchen door, Vi turned and waved her hands in a shooing gesture. “Go on out and check on Piper. She’s probably fallen asleep. There were mornings when I’d find all three of them sleeping in that stone arch.”

      Duncan exited through the terrace doors and headed toward the garden path. He heard the jingle of a bell before he spotted Piper on the grass in front of the stone arch. The impact on his senses was instantaneous. Every muscle in his body tightened and hardened; heat flared in his center and then spun outward just as it had yesterday morning when she’d barged into her apartment, and yesterday afternoon when she’d stepped into the alley.

      He had no control over the way his body reacted to her. He’d always preferred to have control where women were concerned, and he’d never had a problem before.

      She didn’t even seem to be aware of him right now. She tossed a stick and then waited for the dog to retrieve it, a game that both dog and woman seemed to be thoroughly enjoying. The jingling bell hung from the dog’s neck as a precaution in case she wandered off.

      There was a car parked in front of the house, a new black SUV. Aunt Vi’s visitors, he assumed. He paused beneath a trellis covered in roses and turned his full attention back to Piper. She wore comfortable-looking sweats and sneakers. Her hair tumbled down over her shoulders. When she tossed the stick, then raced with the dog to get it, her hair flew out behind her like a flag.

      It had felt like silk, sliding through his fingers when he’d kissed her, and he wondered just how long he could wait to get his hands in it again. He could cross the distance to her in seconds, he thought. And once he closed that distance and touched her again, he couldn’t trust himself to stop.

      He’d promised her that she would make the decision.

      Not so much because he was generous or thoughtful, but because he was hesitant. Very few things made him feel that way. Oh, he made a practice of sitting back and studying all the angles of a situation before he acted. But once he knew what he wanted, once he saw the answer, he went after it.

      He wanted Piper. He’d never wanted anyone as much. So she was unknown territory for him. He’d recognized that much seven years ago. The one thing he was certain of was that they were going to make love. The attraction between them was too intense for either one of them to walk away.

      The problem was he couldn’t see what lay beyond that. Pursuing a relationship with her would be like plunging off a cliff into a river without knowing what would happen next.

      Duncan had always preferred to know.

      The ringing of his cell interrupted his thoughts. Pulling it out, he noted the ID. Mike Nelson. A glance at his watch told him that the detective had probably just arrived at his office.

      “Good or bad news?” he asked.

      “A mixed bag,” Mike said. “I checked out Suzanne Macks’s family. All of them, including her brother, Sid, have a solid alibi for yesterday morning. He was working the night shift at a pediatric care unit. He left the hospital at seven-thirty. Of course, he could have hired someone, so we’ll keep working on that angle. We’re still checking Macy’s stores. There are a hell of a lot of them in the area. But we’ve got a date from the sales slip, and someone may recall selling a single sheet like that.”

      “And?” Duncan prompted. Mike hadn’t called him merely to report on progress. Duncan had


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